Novus Edge
by Reinforced Network
Summary: (Shifters). Harry was attacked by his uncle after his second year of Hogwarts when he awoke a new ability. The ability to be anyone he wanted; including their traits, intellect, and mannerisms. He killed his uncle when he transformed into Hagrid. He faked his own death, destroying the house, and hides in plain sight as a new person who has designs on becoming an "evil" genius.
1. New Play

**Disclaimer: I own not, Harry Potter**

**Novus Edge**

**Chapter 1**

**New Play**

Harry Potter was a young boy nearing his thirteenth birthday. He screamed out in pain as blood spurted from his lips, and staining his mess of black hair. His glasses were smashed, now in pieces on the floor. His otherwise stunning emerald green eyes were red, swollen, and sore with tears while they glared hate and loathing through his pain.

He was a boy wizard, and he didn't know how to use magic without a wand, so he couldn't defend himself as it was unfortunate that he never saw the attack coming from his racist non-magical uncle. His wand was now lying beside him useless as his uncle had been clever enough to get to it, and now it was in several pieces of brown wood with a twisted and once majestic feather looking like it could have come from a pigeon rather than an elegant phoenix.

Harry was not having a very good day as he withered on the floor of his room. It was a small room, and the Dursley's, his 'family' (and yes he did air quote within his thoughts when referring to them as 'family'). He used to sleep and spend a lot of time in the tiny cupboard under the stairs, but once he received his invitation to magic school addressed to that cupboard they got scared and gave him his cousin Dudley's second 'SECOND' bedroom.

He was only blood related to his cousin and aunt, but never wanted to openly acknowledge that. It was his Aunt Petunia's lasting hate and jealousy that Harry's mother Lily Potter nee Evans for being a witch, something that one was born to be that brought about the hate, and his heartbreak. It was in the blood, or DNA that some normal people could have children with magical powers, and they got invited to a school for magic to learn to control their abilities.

When Lily Potter, nee Evans died at the wand of the darkest, (in his opinion at least), wizard of all time - or at least in the past few centuries, that Petunia was given custody of Lily's son, Harry. Petunia was still bitter, and in her pettiness she started taking out her anger and hate on Harry, which transitioned on to Vernon her husband, and he grew to hate the child when he had never even met the boy's parents before.

Harry wrestled with the burning pain in his ribs while his uncle looked down at him in hatred. Harry didn't know where his aunt and cousin were, but suspected Vernon sent them out. His aunt may have been malicious, and hit him on occasion, but if not for her, Vernon would have killed Harry long ago, but then she did have a healthy level of fear for the magical world, so wasn't completely stupid as she knew that Harry would be famous.

He would be the Wizarding Worlds Saviour. They would all know of him and praise him for the Dark Lord Voldemort's vanquish from their midst, and if they discovered the Dursley's had hurt him; they would likely end up as toads for the rest of their lives, or worse, wizard prison.

However, Vernon didn't seem to care anymore. He sneered down at the small boy. He was a huge man with a twitching grey moustache, and short swept hair wearing a white shirt stained with crimson life. His face was an unhealthy plumb colour from his anger, and his eyes were bloodshot with bloodlust.

Indeed, it had not been a good day for Harry James Potter, The Boy-Who-Lived, The Saviour of the Wizarding World, and insert other titles he would be known by in other countries who felt relief that Voldemort was vanquished and thankful of the Potters, and mournful at their great loss. It was a shame that the wizarding world |UK didn't think about Harry's loss.

Harry had just gotten 'home' (yes, the air quote again, as he had no home, and if he did he would consider Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry his home, thankful that it was a boarding school so he didn't have to be 'home' except for the summer holidays, unfortunately).

Harry's 'uncle' had picked him up from Kings Cross Train Station. He knew there was something odd about his uncle, more odd than usual. He was happy, fake happy, but happy; he was 'trying' - well that was what Harry had initially thought. If he had seen a glimmer of his 'uncles' hate at the station, he would have ran.

Harry thought his 'uncle' had come to his senses, or at least someone had used magic to make him seem to have seen reason, but it was all a ploy of his 'uncles'.

When they got into the house things turned dark, for Harry at least as he was startled as he was dragged up the stairs with his trunk that contained all of his personal effects and belongings that he needed to use at school, books, potions supplies, clothes, uniforms and other things.

Vernon took great pleasure as he slammed his giant foot through Harry's trunk before grabbing Harry and finding his wand hidden away in his pocket before snapping it into several pieces before he first slammed his meaty fist into Harry's face, knocking him to the ground in dizziness and agony as his skull cracked.

The behemoth of a man made Harry watch as his Nimbus 2000 was shattered to pieces, and that was a gift from his Head of House, Professor McGonagall his first year as a present for her new seeker on the Gryffindor Quidditch team. It was one of the few gifts he had ever received and he had treasured it.

Vernon didn't stop at Harry's broom but went on to systematically destroy everything Harry owned, except for one thing that wasn't breakable, his Invisibility Cloak. Vernon tried, but it seemed to be indestructible.

Harry had screamed himself hoarse for the man to stop, but he took great pleasure in everything he did, but had to settle for throwing his cloak to the side for later disposal.

All of Harry's stuff, and he never did have much, from presents from friends to school supplies all lay around the room in pieces, even his cauldron had been encaved by a large foot slamming down on it. It was lucky his familiar (snowy owl) Hedwig had flown from Hogwarts as her cage had been squashed to a non-recognisable mess. Harry didn't know what his magic would have done on its own if he watched this monster hurt his pet.

Harry looked up from where he lay on the floor; a bloodied mess. "I'll get you b-back Vernon!" he spat out through his fear, after all he had fought a 70ft. long basilisk the year before, and won.

The man snorted and sneered down at the boy. "I should have drowned you as a baby! You no good for nothing sponger!" he hissed out enraged.

Harry spat out blood at his feet. "Me…! You crap for brains! It was you sponging off my hard work! You were treating me like a slave!"

Vernon roared out in anger and kicked Harry into the wall behind him where he fell sitting up against the wall limply. "I don't care boy because I'm going to kill you and then take my family far away!"

"Someone will find you, and you will die!" Harry roared back as he tried to find a way to escape. He knew the neighbours wouldn't do anything if they hadn't already. He knew they were nosey enough to know the Dursley's were lying bastards.

If someone had ever called in the authorities then someone came and got the Dursley's freed. But then it was more than likely that whatever wards Dumbledore had around the house kept the other muggles ignorant to keep him "safe", (note the double air quotes).

Harry shook from fear and pain. _I wish I was as big as Hagrid, _he sobbed to himself as he knew he had to do something. _I would show him. He would finally understand what it's like to have someone bigger than him beating him up._

Harry felt an odd sensation through his body as he chose to die fighting, and maybe his magic would save him. He charged on a broken leg with several fractured and broken ribs but he didn't feel the pain he thought he would as white light swished like a river of rapids through and over his skin when he slammed into Vernon as the man's eyes widened in terror.

Harry stopped still where Vernon had stood before and looked to the wall to see Vernon on the floor clutching his gut with blood splattering from his mouth.

Looking to himself, Harry saw that the odd white light was gone and he had originally just brushed it aside as accidental magic, but no. Scratching his itchy beard he realised his head was not just brushing the ceiling but cracked through it where he stood.

He had stopped crying and he couldn't remember feeling so good in his life, but he didn't feel completely like - well himself. He was Harry Potter, but he was certain he wasn't as well; his appearance at least. He ignored Vernon where the man whimpered and cried while blood was gushing from his mouth to the mirror Dudley broke on the old cupboard in the room.

"I'm Hagrid?" he asked himself in Hagrid's voice with Hagrid's Northern accent with Hagrid staring back out of the mirror at him with a huge dent in the ceiling from his massive height. "I never imagined Hagrid was as strong as this, but to hold back so much strength; impressive. But more pressing what the hell am I? And how do I change back?

"I can't be a meta-umm…-morph person, well a magical shape-shifter," he said unsure what the correct term was as he heard a brief bit about them in transfiguration. "They don't change like me, and certainly can't change their clothes like I did either," he said as he looked down at his large brown outfit with huge overcoat.

"Anyway, a meta-whatever couldn't emulate feelings or accents, and… wow, I can see… without my glasses!" he declared in awe. "That is incredible, and I never realised how blind I must have been before, and… yep, going mad and talking to myself!"

Harry-Hagrid turned to Vernon with a grin while he was whimpering on the floor. Before, Harry realised Hagrid didn't understand the concept of child abuse, but now he could, or Harry could now he used Hagrid's form as his own, and he realised that from the emotional response he had in Hagrid's body that the normally friendly giant of a man would have killed the Dursley's back when they first met.

The fat man struggled as Harry-Hagrid squeezed his throat tightly as he hadn't realised he had moved. "Not so tough now I'm not a twelve year old little boy, are you, Dursley!" Harry-Hagrid growled out. Vernon didn't even struggle as the life left his eyes; he wasn't able to, and Harry-Hagrid almost had a panic attack when he realised he had just killed someone.

He dropped Vernon's lifeless body to the floor and shook his head as he realised those were the emotions Hagrid would have felt losing control of himself, but he wasn't Hagrid. He calmed down with deep breaths as he thought about what he could do, and more importantly, how to cover up the murder.

He frowned as he ducked his head and grabbed the door handle, and accidently ripped open the door breaking it off its hinges. He shrugged as he threw the door to the floor and tried to fit through the gap, growling in frustration. He was now too big to fit. Why the heck couldn't he be someone smaller, like himself?

He had to change back to fit; the problem was he did not know how to do that or he would have already. If only Hermione was there, she would be able to figure out what was going on. He sighed; she was the smart, yet bossy and condescending friend. Though, she really needed to learn when to shut up because nobody cared all that much about everything she read about, she wanted to brag about, especially him.

He felt something stirring within his magic as the white ripple of light caressed through his skin again and he started shrinking with his clothes changing into a Gryffindor school uniform. However, it wasn't the type the boys wore, as this one had a skirt. He gulped as he put his right hand up his skirt to find he was the first girl he touched there before, and when he rushed back to the mirror, Hermione stood staring back out at him, or her, depending on how he, or she looked at the matter.

His mind was on overdrive trying to recall books she had read but couldn't as Harry had never read those books. He wondered mildly as he stopped enjoying the feel of his first ever, 'girl part' (even over panties he thought it was pretty cool) with blushing cheeks as his crinkled brown haired friend stared back at him with brown eyes.

He gulped as he felt his long hair, opening her robes looked down at his figure and mildly noted that she would be pretty easy on the eyes in a few years if she got over being so rough on the ears. Some boys in his dorm thought looks was all that mattered, but if you didn't like what spewed out of their mouth too, and vice versa then that was no grounds for any kind of 'thing'. That was more likely grounds for murder.

It was kind of weird having the outline of Hermione's intellect, and knowing she wasted it on books written in most cases but morons. Even Hermione seemed to agree, well subconsciously, but the real Hermione was likely still awestruck by magic. He smiled as he thought that as he realised those thoughts came from the Hermione 'extract' he supposed; a portion of her genetics that he - maybe he took from touching her or something.

Magic did like to do odd things, and with who he was, it would be unjust if he didn't have his own super awesome magical gift to even things out, or at least make life more bearable. He had to put up with so much crap because of the old Headmaster Dumbledore and whatever it was he wanted. He still didn't understand whether Dumbledore was secretly evil or just that incompetent that he honestly believed what he did was the 'right' thing to do.

Harry mildly wondered whether he could mishmash physical aspects of other people so that he could be someone new. It would have been nice to keep Hermione' and others minds too. He saw Hermione sigh in the mirror, drooping her shoulders before he remembered that was him and grinned evilly. The grin surprisingly suited Hermione more over the normal good girl reprimand everyone, look. She could have gone far as an evil mastermind, but books and authority were all she cared about.

Hermione didn't see herself as able to become someone important. He realised that she cared so much about the books someone else wrote, even if she questioned (but did nothing to prove or disprove) someone's work because they had never bullied or hurt her she wouldn't. It was annoying that she had been damaged to such a degree by idiots.

Hermione was so 'authoritarian' because figures of authority, teachers, and her parents were all she had before Hogwarts. They had protected her from bullies at school. She had admitted because she liked to read and answer all of the questions that she got picked on and before Harry never had any friends, so he was happy to have her.

Harry was sure she considered him her first ever friend, and from her feelings; he was her best friend. He couldn't get much in the way of feelings towards Ron, except she thought he was an idiot, and that he was never going to do anything with his life. That was nice he figured that she actually loved him and wasn't hanging out with him as a Dumbledore-puppet or something.

It was interesting what he could gather from walking in another person's shoes, quite literally. Hermione really didn't consider Ron much of a friend. He was selfish, ignorant, and arrogant, especially in his stance that all Gryffindors were good, and all Slytherins were bad. Harry was certain that was rubbish as he only ever had trouble from Malfoy and his idiot crowd.

Thinking hard, trying to find her feelings and tiny shadows of thought that it drove Hermione crazy when a pureblood mage, or magical raised couldn't take one moment to remember the muggle names of things so simple while she had to remember so much more in ANOTHER language and didn't screw up.

"This is one freaky, yet very interesting power," she mused to herself thoughtfully.

"I'm a freaking girl!" she laughed, and it was much more unrestrained than Hermione ever let out. "Hermione will kill me if she ever finds out I just felt her up!" she laughed. "But then - I never know, maybe she'll gained a sense of humour over the holiday and would at least fake being flattered or something."

Her evil grin returned a moment later as he would have to strip naked later to have a good long look. It wasn't like he would ever tell Hermione because she would likely freak out, but first thing first. He had to find a way to hide his murder and get away from the Dursley's when an idea struck.

"If I burn down the house with Vernon in it…" she said, trailing off as it was weird to have Hermione's much more proper accent and feminine voice before he continued, "Then before I do it I make a distress call to the police; maybe if I'm lucky they'll think I died in the fire and was incinerated, and that Vernon murdered me!"

But first he had to change clothes. He looked down and thought hard. It all seemed quite simple after that as streams of white light burst around her clothes leaving her wearing dark blue hipsters with white running shoes with a blue top and black hoodie with red stripes on the sleeves.

"Best power in the world!" she praised himself.

"Okay," she giggled. "So, these powers won't be hard to master. Much easier than normal sorcery anyway."

She then looked around the floor, grinned as she found his moneybag, picked it up, and checked his cash and vault key. He was thankful that it had fallen out of his broken trunk and his uncle didn't see it. If the Dursley's thought for a moment that Harry had money they could take they wouldn't hesitate.

She looked at Vernon a moment later, and smirked at the dead man finding that she didn't care much, even if she would have bitched.

"Time for you to pay up," she muttered as she pulled the man's wallet from his pocket. It wasn't like a dead man needed it. "Hmm, five hundred pounds," she commented as she placed the muggle cash into her trouser pocket with his wizard money. She found Vernon's car keys and grinned as she walked out of the room with an idea she felt content with.

He or she, he wasn't sure what to refer to himself as so was somewhat confused about that, walked into the kitchen, and turned on all the stove hobs, oven and grill. She took a breath to steady her nerves as the gas was making her a little dizzy as she picked up the phone she dialled 999.

"Hello Emergency Services! What service do you need!?" It was a woman the other side of the phone line. She was calm, and collected, as Hermione would have thought if she had really dialled the number.

"There's a fire…!" she called out in a panic. However, this time with his original voice and accent, which surprised him as he was still Hermione, but felt a small tingle in her throat. He had just thought that it would have been better for the call to come from him so that they didn't think anyone else died in the fire, and they would have found it suspicious when there was no one else reported missing.

"Please help me!" he cried out trying to keep the panic in his voice, and add in some hysterics even though he felt so calm, and what he was doing kind of amused him, which was odd, and maybe the combination of his mind and Hermione's as he was certain she would have freaked out that she found humour in murder and arson – well the murder was kind of self-defence so he could call that accidental homicide or something.

"The house is on fire!" he continued with a 'chocked' pause, "please help me!" he begged again, adding in some fake coughing. "It's my uncle; he went crazy this time, nobody ever believed me! He tried to set m-me on fire!" he faked his choking and hacking for effect.

"Calm down, please," the woman replied. "I have the address here, and I have fire and ambulance rescue on the way along with the police!" she said in a calm manner. "Where is your uncle now?" she asked quickly.

"He's in the kitchen!" he said in a 'choking fit'. "He banged his head while attacking-!" he hung up and ripped the phone out of the wall, smirking as he felt that what he was doing was a real thrill, like when he 'saved' the Philosopher's Stone, or rescued Ginny from the Chamber of Secrets, and he wondered whether it was odd to find excitement in danger. "Hmm… voice emulation, quite the trick!" he said with Hermione's bossy pants voice back, and a frown; it was terribly convenient that he could even emulate Hermione's persona to such a state he would be surprised if anyone would be able to tell them apart, and that would include her family.

She smirked as she searched the cupboards. He wasn't surprised to find some lighter fluid as his uncle and aunt both 'secretly' smoked. It was pathetic that they pretended the 'high' ground and then smoked themselves silly while out for a 'walk', as if Vernon would ever actually exercise, and their not-habit had been passed down to their idiot son too, and he was only thirteen. However, she grinned widely as she ran upstairs, and poured some lighter fluid on his ratty old bed and on top of Vernon's body.

Hopefully the crime scene team would assume that it was what Vernon used to set Harry on fire, and that he got it on himself in the struggle, helping to hide Vernon's real cause of death, or at least enough that they couldn't tell a man strangled him to death, and that he was attacked in the gut, which likely would have killed him anyway. She frowned as she remembered the look on Vernon's face, and she was certain that the first attack, which was unrestrained would have killed him anyway, she, or he, as Hagrid just saved him a lot of suffering, which was accidental mercy, but mercy it was.

She left the empty canister in his uncle's hand when something hit her foot, she smiled finding his invisibility cloak as he had almost forgot about it, which would have been a shame. It was a very useful magical item to own. She frowned, and wondered about looking for more magical finds like it, maybe a cloak that flew or became a shield like something Batman would use in the comics, only Harry's, or whoever he was at the time would be magic and not science.

Unless magic was a kind of science, which would mean that he should stop thinking too much on using Hermione's smarts properly while she squandered them on hearsay. He had other things to do and it looked like he had a lifetime to do crazy things and piss off purebloods by disprove their bull-crap just to amuse himself as even with his own mind he had frowned at some of the explanations that pretty much said 'it just works' without any explanation about how or why. Hadn't mage experimented to figure stuff out or did they just guess, shrug, and think 'close enough'?

Giggling and shaking her head, she walked back downstairs coughing a bit as the smell of gas thickened, but a little wouldn't do her too much damage as she was a witch and they were more resilient to crap like that, and if they weren't potions in the dungeons would have killed everyone off with the noxious fumes that no one had questioned before, himself included; he liked being smarter, it made him wiser too.

She opened the front door and approached his uncles' car, completely invisible as she pulled on her cloak. She opened the car door and took the handbrake off, and set the car in neutral gear. He had listened, and watched his uncle with the car long enough to know a thing or two about some of the ways it worked.

Placing the keys in the ignition, he, or she, let it roll back into the road before heading back into the house. She had seen this neat trick once on TV while he was cleaning the lounge. She grabbed some metal cutlery and opened the microwave door, and flinging them in with a wickedly evil grin on her face.

She had to hold back the evil-genius cackle before it escaped, and settled for some sinister snickering as she hit the maximum time it would stay on for, and hit start. He knew that it wouldn't take more than a few minutes at the most for the fireworks, so ran, fast, leaving the house and closing the front door behind her while still hidden within her cloak.

Harry wished she was someone who was in better shape for running than Hermione, but honestly couldn't think of anyone at that moment. She saw the speeding fire engine as she fled, and they were followed by 2 police cars and an ambulance, all with sirens blazing. She felt a little bad that she was wasting their time, but whatever, she had slayed a giant snake, fought the Dark Wizard Voldemort three times and survived, it was about time he did something in his favour for a change, why can't he become an evil genius?

She almost fell down when the boom rocked the ground as the house exploded the other end of the street with flames blooming up to reach the sky with thick smoke pouring out, and her first thought was about the environment so she made a silent promise to plant some trees somewhere when she was older to make up for it because potential 'evil' genius or not she didn't want to be a filthy polluter. She paused to watch for a few moments hoping he hadn't hurt any innocent people in the process of his escape, or her escape, but he couldn't afford to dwell on that as those people were likely neighbours and they were all douche bags anyway for never calling child services, and believing the Dursley's crap about him.

She calmed her breathing down as she didn't need to run from the explosion now it had happened and he was still in one piece. He could still barely believing he blew up the house. It was invigorating to pay them back, and take a step on the dark side of the force, but that wouldn't mean he would be anything like Voldemort and the Death Eaters, and what he did was self-defence. Maybe he could call himself a Sith Lord, just to irritate those idiot purebloods by using a muggle media for his 'evilness', but then that was likely too much hassle as he had better things to do than bug fools with intentional quips like that.

Though, anyway, killing to defend himself or not, he had a feeling that if he hadn't just faked his own death he would be sent to Azkaban, and Dumbledore would likely lead the charge. The senile old nutter did put him with those 'people' after all. He would likely smile with twinkling eyes and convince everyone that it was for the Greater Good, and Harry's safety, and Harry would have to escape and exact his terrifying revenge.

She did not stop moving until she reached the local shops and pulled off her cloak out of the way of cameras, and hid it in her pocket. She wondered how many cameras caught wizards doing freaky stuff. She would have to look into secret government task forces designated to magic or something because that was be awesome.

Grinning as she saw a taxi dropping off a fair, she charged over. Before the woman driving could say or do anything she jumped in the passenger seat with a relieved sigh, wiping sweat from her brow as she was drenched from running so much, as Hermione wasn't very fit physically. Sure she looked and felt nice, but she had no muscle, and certainly no stamina.

"Hope you don't mind," chimed Harry-Hermione happily as she told them that she wanted to go to the record store that was located next to the Leaky Cauldron in London.

"Of course," she agreed with a smile as she pulled out into the street. "But where are your parents?" she asked.

"Oh, I'm meeting them there," she lied. "I'm just going home from visiting a friend, but my dad's car broke down," she rolled her eyes. "He's so silly, we can afford a new one, but he likes the one we have too much, something about it being a classic."

The taxi driver laughed. "Well that's men for ya; don't like throwing things away, especially a car they've grown attached too, and even if they could afford it they don't think of getting a second to do the normal things."

Harry-Hermione nodded in fake understanding. He wondered whether Hermione was that good at lying or whether that was him when he remembered lying was his go-to response of self-preservation with dealing with the Dursley's. He was quite the awesome liar. The trick was 'believing' the 'story' yourself.

It didn't take long to get to the Leaky Cauldron, and waving the taxi off, after paying the lady and tipping her for having to drive so far into London she turned to the dirty old looking building with plans and schemes to get himself into Hogwarts as someone knew. He could be anybody he wanted, and he just knew that he could make himself into a whole knew him.

He just had to choose who he was going to be, as he knew he could become anyone he wanted now, and create a new identity.

"Finally. After so long. I'm free!" he muttered, smiling at the disgusting looking pub entrance, but it was better than many alternatives; it wasn't as bad inside as out, and the rooms had to be cleaned and freshened at least.

_**to be continued…**_


	2. Reborn Fayte

**Disclaimer on Chapter 1**

**Novus Edge**

**Chapter 2**

**Reborn Fayte**

Harry-Hermione walked into the Leaky Cauldron pub. It was smoky and grimy but it was better than nothing because it had wards to protect him until he found a place he could use, and set up some wards of his own. He wondered whether it would be big-headed to have his very own castle with loads of cute servant girls wearing 'risky' and cute uniforms. He knew he was wealthy enough once he got the goblins to give him all of his family's loot. He hadn't beforehand because he knew other than his trust vault that Dumbledore would stop him touching the real treasure trove of Potter accumulated stash, which was apparently enough to buy a castle and servant girls.

He was glad the pub wasn't crowded as he didn't like crowds, and he wished that the magical world outlawed smoking inside public buildings like the muggle world did. She managed to get a room without the man behind the bar even looking at her as he was trying to chat up a level eight to nine waitress while he was barely a level three, and she knew it by the exasperation she showed.

Harry-Hermione shook her head and rolled her eyes before frowning as Harry wasn't sure he had heard of the rating system before, but shrugged it off as unimportant as she made it to her room, walking into room 9 she closed and locked the door behind her. She or he, sighed in relief; she may have gotten away with his own 'murder', and uncle Vernon's real murder, or as she put it earlier, accidental homicide.

She flopped back, laying on the huge bed. It had huge covers of pure white cotton that were soft and so very comfortable. It was squishy to the touch, and the room was spotlessly clean and bright, just his sort of place without being too tidy, though he supposed a seven star muggle hotel would have been cooler, but beggars couldn't be choosers, and she wasn't sure that the goblins would ward a whole muggle hotel for her unless she owned it.

At least the room had a homely feel to it. He felt exhausted and sweaty so as soon as she, or he was different, or there about, after a good long rest in the bed he would have a nice long shower in his private bathroom.

"Wow," he whispered to herself smirking smugly about her newfound freedom. "So, time to see Hermione starker's," she giggled as she hopped off the bed as she had to abuse his powers as much as she could because that was something an 'evil' genius like him would do.

She hesitated for a moment before she shrugged as she looked into the body length mirror, and stripped down until she was naked, blushing brightly. He looked down her smooth body, stroking her fingers down her soft flesh from her small, growing breasts to her smooth 'area' wondering why he felt so embarrassed when he felt his own touch, not Hermione.

"Hermione need _NEVER_ know about this!" he said to herself giggling in more embarrassment as she felt tingly in her lower region, as he quickly pulled her clothes back on. He wasn't sure how girls solved 'that' problem, and it would take some self-investigation another time to figure it out, but probably not with Hermione's body. He doubted that prude had ever even done that to herself before because she read a book written by the stupid that said it was wrong.

He honestly hadn't thought that Hermione got those feelings neither; she probably squished them away to the back, dark recesses of her mind. Though, he was sure he wouldn't be able to play with himself as Hermione because her annoying conscience told him that it was naughty and wrong and that it was her form, not a toy, and he didn't want to feel awkward doing 'that' because he figured it was supposed to be fun.

Harry-Hermione sighed and rolled her eyes while thinking. He needed to learn how to control his shifting power. Therefore, he concentrated on thinking about his other best friend, Ron, and being Ron because he was the first person who popped into his head. The light burst through her skin in moments as he felt his body reforming, getting taller, Gryffindor, black and red robes folded out from her clothes, and then it was done.

Staring in the mirror, he shook his head, trying to not look so dopey, but he could feel the lack of - what - intellect? There was certainly an abundant lack of common sense too. And no matter what he couldn't wipe that stupid look off his face. There was no way he could become an 'evil' genius with any aspect of Ron, even strategy was out as that seemed to be just a chess thing, too bad, strategy like that could have been useful.

"Wow, Ron..." he mumbled to himself in Ron's voice, shaking his ginger head as he even sounded dim if that were possible. How in the hells did he not realise he hung out with a dimwit? "You look like an idiot. I wonder why I never noticed before. You got a small dick too… no wonder you always covered up in the showers," he laughed, amused with himself, but he didn't like Ron's laugh; it was something, he couldn't tell, but it and he reminded Harry too much of Dudley.

Harry shifted his form again, and this time it took little thought on his part to turn into one of the Weasley twins. He frowned as he wasn't sure which twin he was, and he suddenly had the urge to cause someone some mischief. He wondered whether that was his own father coming out in him, as he was a mischief maker, or some kind of pranking gene the twins had that he never inherited from his father.

He shrugged as he shifted again into Mr. Weasley. "Ha-ha, I'm thinking about muggle things but have a feeling like I won't ever understand them, odd… the only time I touched him was when we first met; I shook his hand, and he asked me about a rubber duck. I thought he was joking but he really was seriously asking what muggles did with them. Was he that stupid? Didn't magical kids have bath toys…? This is brilliant, now who next? Mrs. Weasley," he shivered in disgust. He had nothing against the woman, but she ate too unhealthily for his liking and he would rather not deal with the nag all hex.

"Um… Ginny…?" he suggested to himself as she wouldn't have that problem, and if she stayed thin and healthy and got blessed with, large, assets was awesome. No, who was he kidding, it wouldn't matter the size of her boobs as long as she was always cute. He took a quick breath before shifting into her. She was small, and wearing Gryffindor robes like the one's she wore when he saved her life from Riddle and the diary a few months back. The cute red haired girl in the mirror looked concerned and frightened; her brown eyes were wide and tearful as she felt fear, shame, guilt, and anything in-between.

"She-she feels so unhappy, scared, and worried. Holy crap, I-I didn't think about her, she must be terrified of what she did in the chamber," he sighed sadly in her voice and it made him smile a little to hear her properly before Harry-Ginny brightened as a clear thought came to mind, and it didn't hurt that Ginny's mind was surprisingly as smart as Hermione's in a more imaginative way, but thinking about it he was surprised that Fred or George was secretly smart too.

"I know. I'll find a way to cheer her up!" She grinned. "I wonder whether I could shift into someone I could just make up from scratch? And then I could become her friend and go to Hogwarts with her, as a girl friend, or girlfriend if she was - well. Could I really be a girl? Well I suppose it is kind of nice and girls are cute and cool, and get all sorts of nice things to wear, so I suppose I could try it out.

"I don't think she has any friends… I could feel a connection with the others, but not her. Though, could I really hide out as a girl...? Well I suppose it makes sense nobody would ever expect me to be the new girl? It might even be fun to have a… new experience that isn't terrifying and involve Voldemort trying to kill me? Though, I think I might miss that, but then I'll have new experiences as an 'evil' genius."

She took a deep breath, concentrating on a girl in his head. Her eyes shifted emerald green, and her hair darkened; the cute freckles around her nose disappeared, and her uniform changed into black and blue with Ravenclaw crest; his choice because he wanted a change. Her skin got a light tan, and her nose shaped slightly differed from Ginny's. Her hair flared out naturally, longer. She was still around Ginny's age and had small feet and small soft hands; she was really pretty.

"Not very imaginative are you, young Novus!" sang a highly amused voice.

She spun from the mirror in shock. She had never imagined to be found out, yet at least, but sitting on the bedpost was Fawkes, Dumbledore's phoenix familiar staring at her. He had only just arrived as she saw the flaming embers flutter to the floor around him. He was staring at her. He was quite the beautiful bird, scarlet and gold, and she was sure the bird had just talked to her.

"D-did you just speak to me Fawkes?" she asked with an uncertain waver in her new softer voice as she felt stupid asking a swan sized legendary bird whether he could speak when she had super powers and magic, so of course the bird could speak, well he was the only other creature in the room, and it was a male voice, so she felt validated that she was correct.

"Yes, of course," the bird chirped with a regal and smug tone. "You are the first novus I have met to just make themselves into the female version of themselves to hide. They'll think Lily and James had another baby before they died. In fact, if I'm not mistaken you have only taken your mothers form when she was twelve. I would try again if I was you, and go for something different rather than making Harry Potter into Harriett Potter," he chuckled amused with her.

She looked back into the mirror, surprised the bird was right, and smiled a little as her mother was really cute, but no wonder her mother was so good at magic, now she took note that her mind was better than Hermione and Ginny's, but in a different, more scientific way where Hermione was the research, Ginny was the imagination, and his mum was the experimentation: the practicality.

She scrunched up her face, and concentrated again. She couldn't let a stupid bird make fun of her like that so she had to do it right this time. She could feel the change again even as she felt tiredness creeping up with hunger as she hadn't eaten anything since the Leaving Feast at Hogwarts, and she was using so much magic it was tiring.

Her eyes changed from emerald green to a sharp and bright yet dark blue, the colour of sapphire, which held an odd and unusual pigmentation and glow that seemed both wild and deceptively innocent at the same time, and a beautiful shine to them as she mixed and matched her mothers, Hermione, and Ginny's intelligence and added to it with her own, Harry's untapped mind held potential he had never noticed before he looked inside himself and others that she wanted to keep.

Her hair pulled up to hang loose between her shoulder blades and shifted colour, sliding into a deep purple, pulling up and back in the centre of her bangs over her forehead in waves without puffing but lying flat, curving out to the sides and back, lose down the sides in curtains over her ears, hanging in tails over her shoulders and small chest. Her eyebrows had turned the same deep purple, and her pouty lips were painted a lighter shade with some shadowing over her eyes.

Her teeth straightened to near perfect white, but not so they shined or looked too perfect. Her skin was the perfect alabaster white, milky smooth. Her nose was small and cute. Her reflective eyes shone in the mirror, blurring out into the whites.

Her clothes shifted next. She wore a tight black leather skirt, showing off her legs, and a white, form hugging top that had no sleeves and tied around her neck with a collar. Her socks were long with the right black and left white, up her thighs leaving only a few inches of skin on full display. She wore leather half boots on her feet, the right white and the left black. Then she wore a white leather belt. It was thick and hung to her right with a large pocket attacked at a jaunty angle over her hips.

She turned and smirked smugly at the bird. "Now tell me that anyone will ever suspect a cute, beautiful, hot young lady like me of ever having anything in common with Harry Potter, let alone blood," she asked. She had even changed her accent giving it a semi-royal, yet deadly and strong flare.

"Okay, Novus... that is a lot better," agreed Fawkes, surprised with her quick grasp of her new powers.

"Novus?" she managed to ask.

"New, always new," he replied, and she frowned and chose to just go with it.

"Yeah, o-kay!" she said slowly, "but how can we speak to each other? I've never heard you chatting before, and Dumbledore never mentioned phoenixes talking," she asked worriedly when that made her frightful. "Y-you're not going to tell Dumbledore are you?" she demanded timidly.

"Even if I could communicate with him I wouldn't tell him anything of worth, least of all about you," the phoenix said. "The reason you can understand my language and vice versa, though I can understand humans through years of watching is because you're a Novus, and you've touched me before. It is more of a mental communication to each other, since neither of us has the vocal capability to speak each other's language, but you would find you spoke other languages that you do have the vocal needs for. It also means you can turn into me, and use all my abilities, and can now speak with me. I suppose you could also make a phoenix form that is different to me."

"Huh? I don't quite understand," she replied, frowning in confusion as she wasn't sure she had read anything about this ability before, and she had read up on a lot of weird powers, and she made sure she kept Harry's parseltongue ability as it could be useful talking to snakes on her quest to become an 'evil' genius.

Fawkes sighed. "A Novus can turn into anyone he or she physically touches; skin contact is needed. However, you can also make people up as you have with this form. You can also transform into any creature, though with most magical creatures you have to have touched one to be able to shift into one because otherwise you won't get a piece of what one is and their abilities would be lost to you until you touched one."

"Oh, so I could change into a Norwegian Ridgeback Dragon if I wanted?" she asked eagerly, as the thought honestly intrigued her as dragons would be cooler if she could turn into one, though frowned thinking about it as she realised Norbert the dragon was female, odd how she just knew, and maybe she could drop hints to Hagrid one day that the dragon would need a new name.

"Yes," Fawkes agreed. Though he looked disapproving at the mere thought, or at least sounded it through the song notes she could hear of his real voice and language; it may be a part of that expression?

"A Novus can also shift other things," he said while she listened with rapt attention, "such as clothes and even other people. You could shift the wind around you into a weapon if you chose. Novus are very rare. I believe you are… well…

"I sensed what you were as soon as I saw you in the Chamber of Secrets. I'm afraid that I was too out of it to notice the first time we met, and after that was still immature from after the burning as my kind, Birds of Rebirth grow up fast because of necessity. I decided to let you discover your ability for yourself.

"Though, looking at the circumstances everything may have worked out if you discount the original beating because now you have no desire to tell Dumbledore of your abilities for him to try suppressing them, afraid of you growing a mind for yourself, and I don't have to try persuading you to see him for the silly old fool he has become in the past twenty or so years."

"Oh, well that's cool, I suppose, if a little - well..." she smiled and sat on the bed beside the post the bird sat on. "Anything else you think I should know?"

"Yes, maybe you should name this new form of yours?" he suggested reasonably. "Humans tend to like names, but I suppose it is better than just calling out because then everyone nearby would turn to you too," he said jokingly.

"Oh, you're right," she said with a giggle, hoping he didn't think she had too much time on her hands that she had thought about it before, while still a boy.

"Um… err well, how about… ...Fayte?" she suggested with a grin. "After all fate either loves or hates me, I still haven't decided yet, but whatever." She laughed sheepishly, but Fawkes secretly agreed with her. "Well… umm… how about my full name being Fayte… umm… Evans, my mother's madden name, because people are too stupid to make any connection!"

"Yes, well - anyway if you're done trying to become someone you were not," retorted the bird, shaking his head in mild fascination. "I have a friend for you to meet."

In a flash of black and blue embers, she appeared sitting beside Fawkes. She was a beautiful black feathered phoenix with the tips of her feathers coloured a fiery blue.

"This is my mate, Nifes," Fawkes introduced her. It took all of Faye's (that new name would take getting used to too) willpower not to laugh at the 'cutlery' birds. She wondered what they would have called their offspring, Spoons.

"Um, Hi, Nifes," greeted Fayte with a smile, trying to hold off the laugh threatening to escape.

"Hello," the black phoenix sung trying not to notice the pale girls red cheeks from suppressed laughter before looking to Fawkes with narrowed yellow eyes.

"She is the Novus you want me to stay with?" she asked interestedly.

"Yes," he agreed with a chuckle. "This is, or should I say was Harry Potter, she is now Fayte Evans, Faye for short. I suppose that is acceptable as names go."

"Yep, I had been so board I had actually thought of this a lot before," she said sheepishly while the birds stared at her, "hey, I seriously had nothing better to do than read at the Dursley's, so my mind wandered… a lot, and I thought of silly things, so sue me!"

"Well, okay," Nifes agreed just to humour her. "But I am confused as to why you choose this female form."

"Well," began Fayte nervously. "I was just feeling bad about not being there for Ginny after her ordeal through her first year and the chamber, and um, thought she could use a friend. But I guess I think I'm going to grow attached to this new me as I certainly won't have to worry about Voldemort or Dumbledore… much at least because I sure as hell am going to piss them both off, lots, and lots because I don't think I could help myself."

The black bird nodded reluctantly. "I suppose that makes sense," she conceded, but she didn't sound convinced by her own words. "So how are you going to make friends with her?" she asked, reasonably.

"Um, I don't know yet," she replied sheepishly. "I'll think of something when I see her. It can't be too hard, and I could always be upfront and force her to let me be her best friend-."

"Well I should get back to the old git," interrupted Fawkes watching Fayte nervously and wanted to get away from her in case odd ball rubbed off, but then crazy from Dumbledore hadn't, so maybe he would be fine for a while. "... before the idiot does something stupid. It is with no doubt that he has already found out that you're no longer at your home, and that his devices will say you're dead."

"They will?" asked Fayte, surprised by the revelation as she had expected the old man to 'monitor' her, but he wasn't doing a very good job or he would have let Harry die. In his ignorance he probably didn't even consider death by muggles, just death by magic.

"Yes," he agreed. "When you shift you don't just change your appearance; you become that person - ish - or someone entirely new, down to the exact genes."

"Oh, so whatever monitoring charms he had on me and the house no longer work because my blood is different?" she asked interestedly, and both birds nodded in agreement. "So you think Dumbledore's an idiot too?" she asked in surprise as she thought she was the only one.

Fawkes rolled his little black eyes. "Of course," he agreed. "An example being where he made you stay for most of your life, with those horrid people, with no friends, no love, and no life. Then letting you take a beating for their enjoyment, and that fat human male trying to kill you today. If Albus doesn't know how you have been treated I'll eat the Sorting Hat!"

"Alright, alright, I already knew he was an idiot, and... that! There is no need to remind me of why, as this body may look small and weak, I assure you I made myself… so much stronger, in every way possible," she sighed falling back on the bed. She shifted her clothes without thought into black shorts and short sleeved PJ's with little red bats on them, and her half boots and socks faded away into nothing, leaving her small feet bare

"You can go home now Fawkes," she said with a tired sigh.

He chuckled in good humour as he flamed away. Fayte watched as the little phoenix-fire embers of red and yellow drifted down and reached out. One passed through her hand and disappeared. It felt warm to the touch, and like a sprinkling of sand through her fingers. It was a very odd sensation, but it was nice to know that she had a couple of cool new 'companions', and that Nifes would be around to look after her.

"Get some sleep child; you'll need it to be awake when you go shopping tomorrow and arrange for Hogwarts," commanded Nifes motherly. "The goblins will keep your secret when you arrange for your inheritance to be your new-selves. I shall watch over you," she continued as Fayte crawled into bed, pulling the covers up over herself, she snuggled into her pillows.

"I'll pretend to be home schooled," mused Fayte suddenly. "Then, um, my 'parents', or dad or something moved back to England from travelling with me in tow, and I decided I wanted to go to a magical school so I'm getting sent to Hogwarts, so they'll be free to travel for business and stuff."

"It should work," agreed the bird. "Especially since you chose that accent, they would realise the lie if you weren't born and raised for most of your life in the UK."

Fayte put her hand out and the air vortexed softly, and sparked with light created an envelope. She smiled as that was quite simply the coolest thing she had ever done; turning the fluid state of air into the solid form of paper and ink as she concentrated on the message she needed to convey. It had only been a whim, but a healthy one it seemed.

"Could you take this to McGonagall Please?" Fayte asked her newly equated familiar hoping that her owl Hedwig would find her, and not be annoyed that she didn't get to deliver the post. "It's still early enough. I don't want to leave it too late, and I'll need to get myself a Hogwarts letter with school supplies and stuff so I can begin my conquest of… umm… never mind that last part," she said sheepishly as the bird looked at her suspiciously before shrugging her wings.

Nifes sighed after a moment's thought and flew up, and snatched the envelope in her beak, flaming away in a flash of black and blue embers while Fayte smile with dreams of phoenix travel and being an awesome dragon, drifting off, finally free and happy.

_**to be continued…**_


End file.
